


Meeting the Flames

by librarian_of_velaris



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast Angst, Caleb Widogast's Backstory, Fire, Gen, Origin Story, POV Caleb Widogast, Poetry, caleb's origins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/pseuds/librarian_of_velaris
Summary: A series of poems telling Caleb's story from his childhood until he meets the Mighty Nein.
Kudos: 3





	Meeting the Flames

Fire calls to me like no other element.

As a child, it frightened me.

“Don’t go near the candle flames, honey,”

“Don’t put your face so close to the fireplace, you’ll get burned.”

I stayed away, as I was told.

But as I grew older

The fire began to sing,

Sharing stories in the wispy orange flames

That begged me to listen.

_I am here, I am with you,_

They sang.

And on the days when I would listen,

I felt less alone.

The flames were my friends.

They would never hurt me.

The first time I tried to put my hands in the flames, my mother caught me.

She grabbed my wrist, the strength in her grip shocking me enough that

I paused my exploration of the flames

To look at her.

“Do not _ever, ever_ do that again, my son.”

She was not home the next time the fire called to me.

It was winter.

She left me reading next to the fire,

Trusting I wouldn’t find trouble

Before she returned from the market.

She was right.

I wouldn’t find trouble.

I found myself.

I looked up from my book

To see a figure in the flames.

A blurred shape that beckoned me near.

I must not lay all the blame on the flames, though.

I admit that I was curious too.

I needed to know more,

I needed to _feel_ the flames

And know they were my friends.

Again, my hand neared the flames.

This time there was no one to stop me as my fingers touched whorls of orange

And white

And blue.

I braced myself for the searing pain of third-degree burns.

I prepared to see my skin bubble and burn

But

There was no pain.

Only joy and safety and comfort.

The flames would never leave me.

When my mother returned from the market

I was back in my chair, a book in my right hand

And a ball of flame in my left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first foray into Critical Role fanfiction, but I felt inspired and I hope you were able to enjoy!


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